Chapter Two

What quality makes one a captain?

I think it is being loved by others.

A captain is like the sun, shining bright to illuminate dark waters.

You can always spot the captain in the center of a crowd, a person who instinctively brings together people from different homes and upbringings and personalities and ways of thinking. No one who is not loved and cherished by others in this way can be a captain.

And Ace was meant to be a captain.

He had something that attracted people to him. Something special that went beyond simple concepts like charisma and heroism. It was this instant respect and fondness for Ace that prompted people to join the Spade Pirates.

Pirates are outlaws almost by definition, and the people who wound up in the Spade Pirates were outlaws among outlaws—those who had no place in other crews, or people with odd backgrounds who never would have become pirates otherwise. He even seemed to have a strange power of fate about him, effortlessly compelling such people across our path as we traveled, without having to seek them out.

So, as we traveled the Grand Line our comrades grew by ones and twos around Ace, and our ship grew bigger as well.

Then, one day…

“Gaaa ha ha ha! Ace! I love you, man!”

A sweaty, bearded man swung a cutlass around on the deck.

“Shut your disgusting mouth!” I said, kicking him smack in the face. He flew straight off the ship.

“M-my bountyyy!” the man wailed as he plummeted into the sea. That was not one of the outlaws who came to Ace out of respect. He was the kind of outlaw who came for hostile reasons: an enemy.

Ace was known for being the captain of the Spade Pirates now, and had a sizable bounty on his head. Having a bounty naturally meant unwanted interest from people you encounter, and a group of them was attacking the ship on this day.

Sidled up next to our ship was the vessel belonging to the bounty hunters. They jumped over to our deck, roaring and with weapons raised, one after the other. There were many of them—several times our number, easily. Which side were the real marauders here?

In a blink, the Spade Pirates’ deck became a battlefield.

The marauders’ target was Ace, and he was instantly surrounded by bounty hunters and hidden from view. I got pushed off to the side of the deck, where many of our crewmates were isolated and outnumbered.

It had all started when they’d claimed their ship was breaking down and they needed help. So we’d approached, none the wiser. It seems this group of bounty hunters often employed such a method to attack passing pirate ships.

It worked because everyone who lived on the water knew the terror of being stranded in the middle of the open sea. Under typical circumstances, no one would pass by a ship in that state without doing anything. It was practically unthinkable.

Even the wickedest pirate would stop their ship—if not to show mercy, then at least to put the poor souls out of their misery and seize their booty. So no matter what kind of pirate you were dealing with, they were going to stop and have a look. These bounty hunters had banded together to take advantage of that habit.

But doesn’t taking advantage of the kindness of others, especially those showing mercy to fellow sailors, make such people even more wicked than pirates?

“These bastards don’t have any sense of common courtesy,” I snarled, just before I noticed a burning sensation on my right cheek. “Whoa!!”

I spun around, and a bright red flame shot past me. The foes nearby were blasted off their feet, screaming piteously. Ace had swung a fist to hurl fire at them.

“Hey, be careful, Ace! You’re gonna burn my coat!” I yelled at him.

“Sorry! But I ain’t gonna throw off any fire that burns my crew!” he shouted back from a distance. Flickering flame surrounded his right arm, and he smiled. True to his declaration, none of our guys or the ship were harmed, and he was hitting the invading enemies with perfect accuracy. Ace had made great progress in his control of the Flame-Flame Fruit’s powers. So much so that his signature “Fire Fist” technique was becoming his nickname as well.

Ace raced across the deck, his fire shining along with him. The bounty hunters had no defense against his dancing, shapeshifting flames. And in the familiar confines of our own ship, Ace might as well have been in his own backyard. No one could stop him.

But while I was distracted by his combat display, a gunshot rang out.

I spun around and saw a bounty hunter right behind me, hunched over and holding his hand.

“Thanks, Teach!” I said, and kicked the man. His eyes rolled back and he passed out; if I had to guess, he probably wished that he’d been kicked into unconsciousness before he got shot. He’d been about to attack me when a sniper’s bullet came from nowhere and knocked his weapon out of his hand.

“Just be more careful, Deuce,” said a voice from nowhere, just like the gunshot. The owner of that voice was nowhere to be seen. He was nowhere to be sensed, either.

The man who’d fired the gun was named Mihal.

I and many others on the crew called him “Teach.” Because, rare enough among men who lived at sea, he was in fact a teacher at one time.

Mihal had a dream of sailing across the seas and providing education to children in remote places where schools did not exist. But this goal of his did not fit well with the ways of more traditional sailors. It was none other than Ace who recognized and supported his dream by giving him space on our ship.

“A man can’t do any good reading amid all this noise. These raucous guests of ours could use some education. Let’s get it over with,” said the voice, followed by several gunshots this time.

Elsewhere on the ship, bounty hunters’ guns sprang from their grip, diverted by his shots. And yet the man himself was still nowhere to be seen.

Mihal was a bit of a shut-in by nature, so he hardly ever left his cabin. He didn’t even come out when we stopped at port to buy supplies, preferring instead to stand watch with a book in his hand. Some people called him “Indoor Mihal.”

He looked rather like an intellectual, with his silk hat and pristinely polished glasses, but Mihal was quite capable in a fight. And his ability to shoot with perfect aim from unknown locations made him the perfect ship’s guard.

There was just one problem.

“I can never tell where he’s even shooting from!”

It made you wonder if someone like him was really cut out to be a teacher.

“Ooh, that’s a pretty gun you have there,” said a voice in the midst of battle. “Made in the North Blue, I assume? That’s a rare piece. I like the skull symbol.”

The man peered with great interest at the gun that was pointed at none other than himself. He had a very peculiar presentation, with so many skull accessories that it seemed almost as though he was trying too hard to pass himself off as a pirate.

This man was our crewmate, and wouldn’t you guess it, he went by the name of Skull.

“I like your style. You got nothin’ but style,” he said to the bounty hunter pointing the gun in question. The hunter seemed a bit confused by this kind of attention.

“The problem is, this gun went outta production real quick. You wanna know why?” Skull grabbed the gun. “Because when you do this, it jams.”

“Huh? What the…?”

The trigger of the gun clicked to no effect, other than the bounty hunter’s sudden panic. It wasn’t shooting.

“And that’s why I gotta compliment you on your style, man.”

The bounty hunter’s face went pale, just before Skull’s fist connected with it.

“Heh heh. This really is a rare piece. Gonna hang it up in my cabin,” Skull raved, gazing greedily at the gun left in his hand.

Like Mihal, he wasn’t your typical sailor. Skull considered himself a collector, and his category of choice was pirate goods. He collected items with skulls—in other words, he wasn’t even a pirate himself.

He just loved pirates so much that he would sneak onto any manner of pirate ship, then work as a swabbie until they reached the next port and let him off. Only someone more than a little crazy would lead a life like that.

Many pirates took one look at Skull and appraised him as nothing more than an eccentric, good for little more than deckhand work, but Ace saw him differently. Ace relied on his vast experience as someone who’d sailed around the world on many different ships. Skull was valuable as a source of information about the seas.

After meeting Ace, he’d gone from being Skull the collector to Skull the info agent.

For his part, Skull was deeply grateful to Ace for seeing such potential in him, and joined the Spade Pirates vowing to become the world’s greatest dealer of information. According to him, however, he was only an info dealer, still not a pirate.

“Your collecting methods really freak me out,” I said to Skull, who was rapturously examining his new loot. “Don’t forget, we’re still in battle.”

“Hey, Master Deu!” Skull said, looking up. I couldn’t actually see his face, because it was hidden behind a skull mask. As an agent of information, he considered his own features to be part of an inventory of valuable details he could sell. I could relate to that. We had arrived at essentially the same place through different logical paths.

Incidentally, though he considered his face to be premium information that came at a price, no one had ever paid him for those goods. Given that he was happy to boast about his looks when newcomers joined the crew, I had the feeling that he actually wanted to take the mask off, but had waited too long, and now it would only be awkward.

Skull, Mihal, and I were considered the brain trust of the Spade Pirates. We were the intellectuals. The crew tended to attract combat types, as personified by Ace. So because of our roles among the crew, I ended up talking to the other two more than anyone else.

“What can I say? It’s a rare gun. Besides, the fight’s almost over,” Skull said, jutting his chin out to indicate the center of the ship deck.

Flame Commandment—Ace created a swirling vortex of fire around him that left the remaining enemies in a shambles.

The next thing I knew, the shouting had stopped. The only sound left was the groaning of the bounty hunters who had boarded our ship.

They didn’t last very long for how many of them there were, I thought.

There was a major difference in capabilities between me, dealing with just a few of the hunters in the corner, and the combat team with Ace in the middle of the deck, who swept up all the rest in one go.

“Well, looks like they’re all mopped up,” Ace noted, glancing around at the fallen bounty hunters. “Listen up! Pick up your buddies who went down and get off this ship!”

The few who were still able to stand were stunned by the force of his statement. Next to Ace, an enormous feline growled menacingly.

This creature was another member of the crew: Kotatsu. It got its name from Ace.

Kotatsu was a giant lynx. It was a rare subspecies, apparently, but I didn’t know the full details. Ace found it caught in a poacher’s trap on an island and freed it, and Kotatsu felt so grateful that it followed him back to the ship.

When we met it, the lynx’s personality was subdued and cowardly, but in the course of our travels, it was returning to its natural boldness.

So whether it was Mihal, or Skull, or Kotatsu—or me, of course—the Spade Pirates were full of those who felt like they’d finally found their place in the world after meeting Ace.

Ganryu of the long-arm tribe and Wallace the fish-man also had nowhere else to go. Ace didn’t judge people based on their race or their appearance. He judged them by something more important: their heart, their nature. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

For this, Ace was admired not just by many outlaws, but even by those who were too extreme to be outlaws.

As for the outlaws who preferred to set their sights on him rather than their hearts, they were all rushing to be the first to jump ship as soon as they heard Kotatsu’s low, menacing growl. Those who had been knocked down were either picked up by their comrades, or came to and were promptly chased off the ship by the big cat.

“Grrrr…meowww!”

“Why does it sound so cute?!” screamed the last bounty hunter as he fell into the sea. It was true that despite its appearance, Kotatsu’s normal, non-growling voice was rather high-pitched and tame when it was on the ship. Maybe it was because Ace had the Flame-Flame Fruit, and thus it was always warm around him. In any case, Kotatsu always behaved itself around the captain.

With the pillagers gone, the ship deck suddenly felt expansive and empty, and Kotatsu plopped down on the planks and began to rub its back against the wood, exposing its belly. It really was just a gigantic house cat.

The bounty hunters’ ship beside us pulled away, and it was as quiet as if the recent melee had never happened. The ship felt lifeless and empty in the absence of all that action. It was like the aftermath of a festival. Ace must have felt the same way.

“All right, folks, let’s have a partyyyy!” he cried. The crew rolled out barrels of ale and heaping dishes of meat, and suddenly the formerly plain deck of the ship became much more welcoming. With food and drink in hand, the crew sang and shouted and enjoyed themselves to their hearts’ content.

No breeze was blowing, and the sea was calm. But on the Grand Line, there was no need for a weather forecast. It could be pleasant now, and the very next moment could bring a torrential storm. That’s just the kind of sea it is.

“Those guys back there said they loved you,” I said to Ace with a mug in one hand.

He leaned back against the railing and smiled. “Yeah, because if they take my head, they can sell it for money.”

Ace glanced in the direction of the bounty hunters’ ship. I followed his sight line. There was already thick mist over the area, and the enemy ship was entirely hidden. What a fickle sea this was.

“You’re so popular.”

“But only with people like them. That’s no fun,” Ace grumbled as he drank. It was rare for him to be grumpy, but he was right: lately there had been an increase in attacks for Ace’s bounty. Considering Ace’s career as a pirate, his bounty was notably higher than others of his generation. For a rookie pirate to command a sum so high without having reached the New World—it was no wonder he became a juicy target.

With each bump in the value of his bounty, the crew cheered for Ace. And when he saw how happy they were, Ace celebrated too. But nobody knew the reason that Ace’s bounty grew so much higher than that of other pirates. Not us, not the people going after Ace, and probably not even the Navy, under certain ranks.

Maybe nobody knew.

Ace was very tough, to be sure. And he had the power of the Devil Fruit. In the blink of an eye, he had sunk multiple higher-level pirates who commanded more infamy than he. The Navy couldn’t catch us, either. Of course they were wary.

But had Ace really done anything to deserve the price they put on his head? What did it mean that he was assigned a bounty higher than those who had committed truly atrocious deeds?

It was impossible not to sense some hidden scheme, some plot at work behind this. At least, as his longest-running companion at sea, I couldn’t help but think that. And I suspected that Ace had a notion too.

Roger…

I thought of that name every time I saw Ace’s wanted poster.

But I guessed that Ace didn’t want to admit it had anything to do with him. Although I knew about the shadow that hung over his existence, Ace never mentioned it to me, and so I had no choice but to pretend I hadn’t put two and two together.

“Hey! Still, being loved has gotta be better than being loathed and despised, regardless of who’s loving you,” I suggested, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Even a sweaty, gross beardo like…”

I came to an abrupt stop. I saw the loneliness in Ace’s eyes as he stared into his mug. It looked like the bottom of the deep, dark sea. He wasn’t drunk.

“Ace…” I said, hesitating.

“Mrow!” said Kotatsu.

The chanting and stomping of the crew came to a halt. The ship was quiet. Everyone followed Kotatsu’s gaze, who was peering into the distance and growling. The wildcat was looking beyond the mist through which the bounty hunters’ ship had gone. Another ship’s silhouette was emerging.

“What’s up? Are they coming back again?” Ace wondered, leaning forward. But soon there was more than one ship.

Many of them, in fact, all looming through the thick mist. It looked like a fleet…

“The Navy?!”

Soon the seagull insignia broke through the sheet of white.

It was painted on a sail—the symbol that pirates dreaded. Below it was the familiar MARINE logo. Sure enough, the Navy had arrived. The battleships were on the move, and they were all coming our way.

“That’s the Nailer’s ship. Bad one to have on our tail,” said Skull, pointing out the lead ship. “The Nailer’s supposed to be a real nasty ensign.”

“That’s an odd epithet to have. Former shipwright or something?” Ace asked. Meanwhile, I gave orders to the other crewmates. “We need some distance!”

One battleship surged out in front of the others. If we had to deal with that one first, the others would circle us in the meantime. They were already distancing themselves from one another, fanning out in a wide formation. We weren’t going to let them get that far.

“There was a reef nearby, if I recall. Let’s change course to head there. Full speed! Unfurl the map, Teach!” I shouted to Mihal, who I assumed was somewhere in the ship’s library. I helmed the ship, wary of the Navy vessels right behind us, and rushed to and fro across the deck.

Suddenly, from very close by, an unfamiliar voice said, “This is a good ship.”

It belonged to a young woman. I spun around in shock and saw a Navy sailor standing alone on the deck nearby.

But this was not just a sailor. Like a cape flapping in the wind, she wore over her shoulders a white coat with the word “Justice” embroidered on the back. Only proper Naval officers were allowed to wear these coats.

“When did you—?!”

Somehow a Navy officer had jumped onto our deck.

“I’m sad to say that your voyage ends here,” the woman said, placing her hand on the narrow sword at her waist. I could see a nasty burn scar on the back of her hand.

There was a gunshot.

“Hmph!”

A clang. She snorted.

Without batting an eye, she had drawn her sword and swung it through.

“Very impressive…” Mihal’s voice came from some indeterminate location a moment later. It all happened in a blink. He had shot at her from his hiding place, and she had drawn her sword to deflect the bullet.

“You’re a beast,” I stammered, backing away.

“Master Ace, that’s the Nailer!” shouted Skull. The gunshot had drawn his attention to the woman on the deck.

“Oh yeah? I was imagining some big, burly carpenter guy. Why’s she called the Nailer?”

“Apparently she puts holes in people as precisely as though she’s pounding nails.”

“Okay, that’s spooky,” said Ace, not looking spooked in the least. He strode forward.

Ace was cool and calm. So was the woman. She stared him straight in the eyes with conviction and clarity.

“I am Ensign Isuka. You must be Fire Fist Ace,” she said, in a powerful voice. She pointed the tip of her sword at him. “You are under arrest.”

“Hey…” Ace said, looking deadly serious as he stared back at her. “That sounds like a bird’s name.”

Instantly, the entire scene seemed to freeze.

What he said didn’t match the tense mood of the situation in the least. And yet the officer who introduced herself as Isuka barely budged. She just kept her sword pointed at Ace.

“Can you really slice me with that thing?” Ace teased, grinning like a little scamp. The outline of his body blurred with heat haze. In moments, the flickering turned into proper flame.

His entire body was fire. Ace’s Flame-Flame Fruit powers were in full effect.

“If you wish, I will riddle you with holes!” Isuka said, on the move before the words had left her mouth. Her narrow sword jabbed with blinding speed.

“Whoa!!”

Though made of fire, Ace was so surprised by the force of her attack that he instinctively dodged out of the way.

“Captain Ace!”

“We gotta help the captain, boys!”

The crew surrounded Isuka at once, but she spun and swung her sword with incredible speed and ferocity. It was like she was surrounded by an invisible wall, so complete and dangerous was her defense. You could try to walk through that wall, but there was no way you wouldn’t emerge pierced all over from that sharp, shining sword tip.

Isuka the Nailer. The name made much more sense now.

“Do not attempt to run, Ace! Cease your ineffective resistance and surrender to justice!” Isuka demanded as she attacked.

“So if my resistance is effective, would that be okay?” Ace teased, avoiding her sword.

They couldn’t be more different, I thought. But then something about Isuka’s fighting style struck me as strange.

She was alone. We had many members. One could only expend so much stamina. With the way she fought, fatigue was bound to set in eventually. So why did she choose to come over to the ship alone? She’d brought all these ships and men. Why not use them? It almost seemed like she was buying time…

By the time the thought occurred to me and I spun around to look, the Navy ships were already circling in our direction. Slowly but surely, they were completing their encirclement.

She used herself as a decoy!

She’d inserted herself into enemy territory to draw all attention to herself. Such boldness forced us to respond, and when there was a disruption such as this on the deck, sailing of course became an afterthought. Now the other Naval ships had surrounded us…

Suddenly it made sense to me that one of the ships in particular had stuck tight to our tail. It was intended to keep us focused on just one direction without paying attention to the others.

“It’s over now,” said Isuka, pointing the tip of her sword at Ace.

“Aaaaaaaaah!”

Just then, there was a scream from off the ship. It had obviously come from one of the Navy ships surrounding the Spade Pirates’ vessel.

“Looks like we made it just in time,” I muttered, relieved. We had reached our destination at sea in the nick of time.

“Were you so busy chasing after us that you failed to notice the rocks underwater?” I taunted, looking toward the enemy ships—one of which in the blockade was noticeably tilting.

We had reached the reef.

If you passed this way without realizing it, you’d get stuck between the crashing waves and the underwater rocks and have no safe escape. If you were lucky, the rocks might scrape a hole in your bilge and sink you—as had just happened to the ship nearby.

It was clear from the start that the enemy fleet was going to attempt to surround us. I didn’t expect a senior officer to infiltrate our ship alone and distract us, but from our standpoint, we just needed to prevent them from forming a full blockade. That’s why I had steered us over here: to slip through the rocks and make an escape where they couldn’t get in front of us.

They must have picked up speed and rammed right up onto one of the pointed rocks underwater. The battleship looked badly damaged; it was keeling farther and farther over by the moment. People and barrels toppled over the railing into the sea.

Waves are chaotic in a reef area like this. Among the craggy points, they swirled and crashed in unpredictable patterns. And because the churning water sharpened the rock formations, they could do a lot of damage to an unsuspecting victim.

“You could have just paid attention to the rocks and chosen not to chase us.”

The fallen sailors were at the mercy of the waves. Even an experienced swimmer would have difficulty in these conditions. Isuka promptly sheathed her sword and placed a foot against the railing.

“What, are you running away now?” Ace demanded.

“I’m going to save them, you fool!” she cried, and jumped straight between the whitecaps.

We rushed to the side of the ship to watch. Isuka swam cleanly through the choppy waves, reaching out for her struggling subordinates. When she got one, she would move him to a floating barrel or wood plank before heading to the next.

“She’s incredible,” Skull said, whistling in admiration.

But the waves were just a bit too strong. Isuka was at their mercy. She’d get smashed by one, then pop her head out of the water a moment later, over and over. She gave every bit of flotsam to her subordinates, so she had nothing to hold on to herself.

Ace watched her struggle. Then, without a word, he threw a flotation ring over the side. Isuka struggled against the waves but succeeded in grabbing the ring. Despite her predicament, she glared up at the Spade Pirates’ ship, and Ace at its side, with fury in her eyes.

“Why did you save me?!” she bellowed.

“Dunno,” Ace said simply. He turned his back on her.

“Fire Fist! I will capture you next time! I will make you regret helping me!” Isuka shouted after us, as our ship continued on its way.

“She’s a good person,” Ace said, looking back at the reef area as we passed.

A superior officer who prioritized saving her own subordinates over her personal goals—in that sense, she was a good person. And the plan for her to slip onto the enemy ship alone to buy time was probably her idea, not just because she was the strongest on the ship.

But…

“I dunno, the thought of having such a fearsome woman chasing after us this whole time is kinda depressing,” I said with a sigh.

“Hey, it’s better than that sweaty, beardy guy before her, right?”

“Well, that’s true… I don’t want to have to deal with that type ever again, either.”

Ace and I shared a look and laughed.

“Well, time to get back to our celebration. C’mon, let’s party!”

And with that, he revived the festivities.